


Lord of the Rings, Fishing Rods and Yoyo's

by OptimusPrime088



Category: Hunter X Hunter, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, Hunter X Hunter Spoilers, I need sleep, I've looked everywhere, No Slash, Seriously guys, and poor Aragorn is confused, gon hates pitou, i probs should be studying, killua badassery, no relationships - Freeform, why arent there other crossovers like this?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-08-08 04:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16422572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimusPrime088/pseuds/OptimusPrime088
Summary: Gandalf sends a letter to Netero asking for help. However, Gandalf didn't expect that Netero would send two 13 year old boys. How can a pair of teenagers help the Fellowship? Well, he's about to find out.///Killua’s eyes immediately turned to slits as he levelled a glare at the elf lord and the Fellowship which would instil fear in the heart of Sauron himself.“We mere boys are going to help you on this quest whether any of you like it or not,” Killua said slowly in a dangerously low voice.“Don’t underestimate us,” the ex-assassin spat out. “I promise you’ll regret it.”///





	1. Reinforcements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackOps56](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BlackOps56).



> I've been given permission to put this story up on Archive of Our Own for a friend of mine, so keep in mind that this story is NOT mine and that ALL the credit goes to BlackOps56. I'll be updating the chapters only when my mate gives me the chapters. Anyways enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preview: //The two children were obviously not from Middle-Earth, however, Gandalf didn't want to believe that the ones standing in front of him were indeed the 'reinforcements' which he so desperately needed.//

Isaac Netero has lived a very long life. So it's natural that he'd made many, many friends, some of which were older than him. Who could possibly be older than Netero you ask? Many people actually. Well, to be fair these people weren’t exactly the definition of ‘normal’. For example, Netero befriended a wizard by the name of Gandalf when he was exploring an isolated continent known as Middle Earth. However, despite having countless friends, none of them has ever called in for a favour… up until now that is. Funnily enough, Gandalf was in fact the one who asked for the favour.

Netero's traced the letter he received earlier that morning as he read it once again.

Dear Isaac,  
It has indeed been a very long time since we last met and I miss you very much. I apologise for interrupting you as I know you are a very busy man, however, this is a matter of upmost importance. I'm sad to say that Middle Earth is in grave danger of once again being over thrown by the dark lord Sauron. If you could be so kind as to send one or two Hunters I would be forever grateful. If you agree please notify them to meet me at the borders of Rivendell in a week from now. A map of Middle-Earth is drawn on the back. They will join myself and eight others on a quest to save Middle-Earth from imminent doom. In case this letter is intercepted, I will inform them of the situation in further detail once we reach Rivendell. The type of Hunters you send doesn't matter. However, I will understand if you are unable to provide me with aid. Thank you, old friend.

Yours sincerely, Gandalf the Grey

Netero's brows furrowed slightly. Now wasn't exactly the best time for his old friend, Gandalf, to call in for help. He was currently on his way to the borders of NGL with two acquaintances – Morel and Knov. 

Morel was quite a large man, standing at a good seven foot. He carried a large smoking pipe, about the same size as him, which was wrapped in a white cloth. He was also a very outspoken person and was very blunt when it came to most things. Despite his looks though, Morel was a kind hearted man, and was also the biggest softie around. It's no wonder why one of his students, Knuckle, was also a softie. However, the same can't be said for his other student, Shoot, who was scared of everything and everyone that proved to be a danger to his life.

Knov, on the other hand, wasn't much like Morel at all. His clothes practically screamed his personality. Intelligent, calculating, stiff, and an altogether stick in the mud. He wore a simple black tuxedo with a light blue tie and also wore glasses. He was constantly judging those around him and always seemed to look down on those that he believed were inferior. Also, he was blunt, if not blunter than Morel, and he wasn't exactly the optimistic type.

Both men were very skilled Hunters and were therefore sent to NGL to deal with a certain problem. Chimera Ants is what they were called. These 'Ants' were apparently causing quite a fuss and needed to be exterminated before they could caused any further harm to the people of NGL. Of course none of the locals had informed the Hunter Association of their major bug infestation, so thankfully the friends of Hunter known as Kite had notified them of this new threat. 

Apparently Gon and Killua had been acquainting Kite for quite some time and had also been fighting the Ants. Though many people may do so, Netero didn't doubt their skills one bit. In fact, he truly believed that they would eventually be among the strongest Hunters. Heck they already outmatch the majority of Hunters, so Netero did indeed have high hopes for the two teens.

After a thorough explanation of the situation and assurances of the threat that the Ants could pose if they ever expanded their territory beyond the borders of NGL, Netero, Morel and Knov agreed to travel to the secluded country to deal with the problem themselves. While Netero was determined to take care of the situation involving the Ants, he also wished to help his friend Gandalf. But how? However strong he may be Netero was still just one man, and as much as he wished it, he couldn’t be in multiple places at once. 

Netero decided that he'd think on it later. He was sure he'd find a solution eventually. He always did.

"Huh? You left Kite behind? Why?!" The girl with pink hair, Spin, who sat in the front of the car practically screamed in her phone. The man beside her and behind her were seemingly unfazed by her sudden outburst.

"What happened? Explain what's going on!" the Spin demanded. Before she could further question the person she was talking to, her phone was taken off of her by the man behind her, Mon.

"H-hey, what are you doing?!" She yelled at Mon, who completely ignored her.

"Yes, I understand. Can you wait there a little longer? We're headed your way right now. We have reinforcements," Mon spoke calmly in the phone, referring to Morel, Knov and Netero.

All three of the Hunters sat in the back of the car and waited patiently as they rode to NGL.

OoOoOoOoLINEoBREAKoOFoAWESOMENESSoANDoFISHoOoOoOoO

Killua squatted down by the large tree which marked NGL's border as he awaited Kite's friends and the so called 'reinforcements' that would be brought with them.

Kite. The thought of his new friend hurt. Badly. Never in his life had Killua felt so completely and utterly helpless. Killua felt as though they were overconfident. It was ridiculous how overpowered they were and Killua had genuinely feared for his and Gon's life.

Though Kite chose to stay behind and buy both Gon and himself time to leave, the fact that he had abandoned Kite still hadn't sat right with him. Actually, that was an understatement. He felt downright awful. If it had been just Kite by himself, he may have managed to find a way out alive.

Killua wasn't dumb, nor was he naïve. There's no way Kite would have survived from being attacked from something so strong. The very thought of the creature they encountered sent chills running through Killua's back. Just the memory of the aura that the thing emitted would give any grown men nightmares.

Killua squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to suppress the memories which threatened to resurface. His efforts proved to be futile as images of Ant flashed through his mind. Killua remembered the feeling of dread that washed over his body as he gazed into the things demonic eyes. Killua could have sworn he saw its purple and yellow irises light up in sickening delight as its vision zoned in on Gon, Kite and himself. 

The image of the creature immediately disappeared as Killua forced his eyes open. He noticed the small pool of sweat which had formed beneath him. Killua took a large breath. Every time he and Gon got stronger, something or someone else would come along and beat them down. For a moment Killua considered whether anything really ever did come easy in his life. The answer was simple of course… No. Nothing ever did. Not in a Hunters life anyways. That was both the most exciting and yet frustrating thing about being a Hunter. You always had to work hard to get something you want. That was a welcomed challenge for most of course, but what if you're not strong enough? What happens then? You worked extra hard of course. However, there was such a thing as limits, and at that moment, Killua truly believed that no amount of hard work could help in defeating the creature which had attacked Kite. Even if he trained for the rest of his life, he still believed he wouldn't stand a chance against the Demon Ant. No. Way.

The white haired boy cast a side long glance to where Gon laid unconscious. He doubted that his over optimistic friend would share his thoughts. Killua cursed silently under his breath. He didn't deserve to be friends with someone as great as Gon. He didn't deserve anything. After all, he let a friend die. It was absolutely unforgivable.

The sound of an approaching car had brought the ex-assassin out of his morbid thoughts. Just as the car stopped, Killua saw Morel, Knov and Netero step out.  
His eyebrows immediately shot up as his eyes landed on the Chairman.

'So these are the reinforcements,' the young Hunter thought.

"What's this? They're just kids. If you're here to play, you'll get burned. Go back home," Morel stated loudly as he approached Killua, who grimaced at the man.

"Stop it Morel-san. That isn't nice..." said Knov while pushing his glasses up. "They're only children."

Killua simply closed his eyes, refraining from saying anything to the men. Netero gazed at the teens face and chuckled.

"You look pretty defeated," the Chairman said, the undertone of concern barely noticeable. His expression turned serious. "Was the enemy that strong?"

The young Zoldyck immediately scowled.

"One of them could use Nen. That aura was the worst I've encountered. Worse than my brother's... Worse than Hisoka's..." he said, shaking his head as if in disbelief of his own words. Killua looked up to the three older Hunter's. "Now that I've learned Nen myself, I can tell... You guys are unbelievably strong. But... I still can't see you defeating that thing..." Venom dripped from Killua’s tone as he spat out the last word.

Knov stood with his arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"Whenever humans encounter the unknown, they tend to lose perspective. Currently, you're experiencing a state of panic," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, pushing up his glasses again. "We'll take it from here, so go lie in bed."

Morel barked out a laugh.

"You're no better than I am, Knov. Kid... the minute you start talking about who can win a Nen fight, you're wrong. In most cases, you won't know your opponents abilities. One instant of carelessness is all it takes to turn the tables and cost a life," the large man scolded.

"You can't make assumptions based on the amount of aura displayed. The battle can turn at any point," Morel continued, a huge grin spread across his face.  
"That's what fighting with Nen means. But regardless, you must always fight certain of victory. That is a Nen-user's spirit. The moment you were overwhelmed by the opponent's aura and fled, you were disqualified. You're lower than a loser!"

Knov turned to Morel and pushed his glasses up. Killua was seriously considering smashing those glasses soon.

"Morel, that's enough," he reprimanded the man, who just huffed in response.

Morel was right of course. He was lower than a loser. However, he, Knov and Chairman Netero had yet to experience the Ant's immeasurable power, and he hoped, for their sakes, that they never would.

"Is Gon asleep?" Netero asked as he observed Gon's resting form.

"He was going to attack the enemy, so I used force to stop him... I didn't have time to control my strength, so I don't know when he'll wake up," Killua explained, a guilty expression crossing his face as he did.

Morel nodded in approval.

"The kid shows promise, then," he said.

"Morel!" Knov yelled.

Netero ignored the two and continued his conversation with Killua.

"It is difficult to believe that giant Chimera Ants are eating humans, but since it appears to be true, we must keep casualties to a minimum. If we send fighters who aren't strong enough, they'll only strengthen the enemy," Netero advised sagely. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Killua answered while keeping his gaze fixated on the ground, not wanting to meet the Chairman's eyes.

A sudden idea came to the old man's mind, and he smiled brightly.

"There's a secluded continent, even more so than NGL, known as Middle-Earth," Netero started, catching Killua and the other two's attention. Apparently they hadn't known of this place. "Not many people have travelled there as they believe that it is a part of the Dark Continent. An old friend of mine has requested that I send one or two hunters to assist him in a quest to help save Middle-Earth. I advise that you and Gon travel to the borders of a city known as Rivendell. There, you will await my friend, Gandalf the Grey. You have a week to get there. If you wish to be a Hunter and return here, you'll complete the quest which you will be asked to assist in. Do you accept?"

Killua nodded silently, shocked that they were given a chance to come back. Netero searched his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment before handing it to the young assassin. Killua saw that while one side had what looked like chicken scratch all over it, the other side had a detailed map of what he assumed was Middle-Earth. He noted that there was a small cross marked on the map.

"The 'x' marks the place where you will meet Gandalf. You will have to sail to the west coast and make your way from there. I warn you that the locals of Middle-Earth are unaware of the world around them and have no idea what Nen is, nor do they know anything about technology. Good luck," the old man said with a grandfatherly smile.

Unsure of how to respond, Killua gave the chairman a small grateful nod before he picked Gon up and crawled to the back of the car.

After an hour or so of driving, the events of the previous night had caught up with Killua. He slump tiredly in his seat and finally gave into his desire to sleep.

OoOoOoOoLINEoBREAKoOFoAWESOMENESSoANDoFISHoOoOoOoO

It had been a week since Gandalf the Grey had sent the letter to his friend. Indeed he did feel guilty for asking so much of a man as busy as Netero, however, he was desperate to get help. He had informed Elrond beforehand that he was asking for help from his old friend, Netero. At first, the elf lord seemed hesitant to allow for foreigners, least of all friends of Netero, to join their quest to destroy the ring, but, even he admitted that the Fellowship needed all the help that they could get. Netero had always been a troublemaker in the eyes of Elrond, however, even he couldn't deny the overwhelming amount of strength which Netero possessed.

Gandalf sat on a rock just outside the borders of Rivendell as he awaited reinforcements who were more than likely not coming. He had been waiting for three hours now and was beginning think that the Hunters weren't going to come.

Hunters. When used in certain context, the word was still foreign to the wizard, despite hearing the name countless times from Netero as he recounted tales of the lands beyond Middle-Earth. He remembered the first time Netero had mentioned Hunters. He was quite dumbfounded and even sceptical at first, but after witnessing Netero easily kill ten cave trolls first hand, he had no doubt that these 'Hunters' were far more capable than any Man, Dwarf or Elf.

Despite Netero continuously stating that he and all other hunters were from the race of Men, Gandalf never truly believed it. Perhaps they're descendants of another race like the Istari. That was the only explanation for the strange ability that he called 'Nen'. Even after knowing Netero for eighty years Gandalf still found him to be quite the enigma. Actually, these 'Hunters' were all enigmas. They would hide their abilities and reveal it to you when you least expected it. 

Being a wizard gave Gandalf the ability to see Nen, including aura. Gandalf was still in awe of the massive amount of aura that his old friend radiated subconsciously. The wizard could have sworn that Netero's aura was so potent that he could sense it miles away. Though Gandalf was astonished when he first felt Netero's aura, that didn't compare to the time when he had seen his Nen ability. God knows he almost died of a heart attack.

While Gandalf was busy reminiscing, a certain pair of teen Hunter’s sat down in the bushes not far from the old wizard. 

Killua soundlessly rolled up the map that he had in his hands and placed it in the front pocket of his hoodie.

After Gon had woken up, Killua had made sure to apologise to him. Instead of scolding Killua like he had expected, Gon thanked him. He said that if it wasn't for Killua, all three of them would be dead. Of course when he had explained to Gon that they were going on a quest in a strange land he was overjoyed. He was jumping around on the boat so much that Killua seriously considered knocking him out again. 

Gon expressed his determination to help this 'Gandalf' in his quest so that they could return to NGL for Kite. Killua knew that the chances of him being alive were incredibly slim, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Gon that. Best to have hope than no hope at all.

Killua and Gon had made sure to conceal themselves using Zetsu as soon as they set foot on Middle-Earth. Though they were unsure whether or not any beings on Middle-Earth could sense aura, they couldn't take any chances. They had no idea how to distinguish friend from foe here so they had to assume that enemies could be anywhere. Thankfully they hadn't run into a single hostile being along the way, even though Killua was convinced that the mosquitoes were out to kill them. Trained assassin or not, mosquitoes were still annoying as hell. Luckily Gon stumbled across some recognisable plants and concocted a sort of 'repellent cream'. Who knew growing up as a wild mountain-boy would be so useful?

Using the map to find the so called 'Gandalf the Grey' hadn't been much of a task at all. For Killua anyways. He had given the map to Gon for a day and they ended up at the same beach they had arrived at. Apparently Gon was holding the map upside down. It’s fair to say that Gon had learnt a very important life lesson that day; never ever take up cartography. For obvious reasons Killua had kept Gon a minimum of ten metres away from the map from then on out.

After a few days, they had made it to the outskirts of Rivendell. Killua had opted to observe the old man sitting on the rock before making his presence known. Neither Gon nor Killua were fooled by the old and frail appearance of the old wizard. Both teens could feel that he was powerful in his own right, though not as strong as Netero. Not even close.

Deciding that he wanted to know whether Gandalf could sense their aura Killua signalled for Gon to drop his Zetsu, which he did. Almost immediately, Gandalf's head snapped in the direction of the bushes. The sudden powerful burst of two strange aura's instantly caught his attention. Gandalf's eyes narrowed onto the bushes.

"Whoever you two are I advise that you reveal yourselves this instant!" Gandalf yelled as he edged towards the bushes, waving his staff threateningly. To anyone observing the wizards antics, he would appear to be a crazy old man, yelling at thin air while brandishing an over-sized cane in front of a bush, as if he was expecting a rabid bunny to attack him.

Slowly, Killua and Gon stood from where they were squatting in the bush, holding up their hands in the universal sign of surrender. Fortunately, Gandalf seemed to recognise the peaceful gesture and had lowered his staff.

"Hello lads. Might I ask what you young fellows are doing out here alone?" Gandalf asked kindly, all traces of the crazed old man from before disappearing. The wizard wasn't sure whether he wanted the answer or not. The two children were obviously not from Middle-Earth, however, Gandalf didn't want to believe that the ones standing in front of him were indeed the 'reinforcements' which he so desperately needed. From what Netero explained, only the best and most talented could even have a shot at becoming a Hunter, but even then, their chances would be incredibly slim. So how could ones so young be Hunter's? The Istari could deny the fact all he wanted but the signs were all there. Their strange clothing. Their potent auras. Even their scent was foreign.

Gandalf watched curiously as the white haired boy reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter he had sent, slightly flailing it in front of his face.

"Does this answer your question?" Killua asked. The sternness in the young man's voice startled Gandalf.

"Indeed it does, young one," the old wizard answered as kindly as he could. Maybe he had made a bad impression on the poor boy, so the child may have felt the need to come across colder than he normally would. Killua scowled.

"My name's Killua, not young one," Killua said harshly, accidently leaking out some killer intent which caused Gandalf to recoil. Give the kid a break. Morel and Knov really did his head in by continuously calling him and Gon children. Well, unlike Gandalf they made it sound more like an insult than anything else. But still, he didn't need another stranger calling him something along the lines of a kid.

Gon didn't seem to like his reasoning though as he smashed his fishing rod over Killua's head. The Zoldyck crouched down and massaged his aching head before snatching the rod off of Gon and whacking him over the head with it.

"OUCH! Whatcha do that for Killua?!" Gon yelled at him, tears of pain forming in his eyes.

"Huh? What I do that for?! BAKA! You hit me first! Why'd you do that?!” Killua barked back just as loud.

"You were being mean to Gandalf-san!" Gon shouted in Killua's ear.

"HE CALLED ME 'YOUNG ONE'!" Killua argued.

"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU ARE YOUNG, KILLUA!" Gon argued back.

"OH FINE, TAKE HIS SIDE!" Killua yelled while pointing to Gandalf.

"I WILL!" Gon roared.

Both teens crossed their arms and faced away from each other while the wizard sweat dropped... he had no idea what just happened. The whole of Middle-Earth probably heard their fight. The shock of having the young man's surprisingly scary killer intent directed at him had now subsided.

"Er, boys, boys. Please calm down. It was nothing. I meant no offense when I referred to you as a child, Mr Killua. I apologise," Gandalf said sincerely.

Killua's angry face immediately turned embarrassed.

"Sorry, Gandalf-san. I just overreacted," Killua apologised.

Gandalf chuckled lightly, reminding the teens instantly of the Chairman.

"It is okay, Killua," he replied. "How about we start again?"

Both boys nodded and smiled brightly.

"Very well. My name is Gandalf the Grey, but you may call me Gandalf. I am an Istari, or Wizard, and I ask that you two assist me in a very important quest," Gandalf introduced himself.

Gon's and Killua's eyes sparkled in wonder when they heard that he was a wizard. Netero never mentioned this!

"Wow, an actual Wizard? Like magic?" Gon asked. Gandalf answered with a quick nod. "Cool!"

Gon then continued to jump around the wizard asking a billion question a second. Gandalf, who was struggling to get a single word in, felt grateful when Killua  
firmly clamped his hand over Gon's mouth.

"Kill-u-a... can't...breathe," Gon strained to say.

Killua let go instantly. Once Gon had caught his breath he punched Killua in the shoulder, hard. The white haired boy was sent flying into a tree, which had snapped in half like a twig.

Gandalf's eyes widened in surprise. 'Hunter's indeed,' he thought.

"Oi Gon! What..." Killua started furiously but was interrupted by Gon.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Oji-san. I'm Gon and that's Killua. We both became professional Hunter's just under a year ago and we'll gladly come on this quest with you," Gon introduced himself and Killua enthusiastically.

"Oji-san?" Gon asked.

"Yes young-er, I mean, yes Gon?" Gandalf stuttered, not wanting a repeat of last time.

"Could you show us some magic?" Gon questioned hopefully. Killua, who looked ready to hit Gon for punching him in the shoulder, also looked expectant.

"Of course Gon." Once the Wizard said this he was almost blinded by the bright smiles that were sent his way. "But first, I must ask you two this; how much do you know about Middle-Earth, or more specifically… the One Ring?"

Both boys exchanged identical confused looks and shrugged at each other.

"The one what?" Gon and Killua chorused.

The Istari sighed.

"Well, it will take us a few hours to get back to Rivendell on foot, so I'll tell you everything," Gandalf informed them.

The two Hunter's followed the Wizard as he walked past the bushes, listening attentively as Gandalf began the story.

"It all began just over two thousand years ago, when the races of Men and Elf's marched upon Mount Doom to defeat the dark lord Sauron once and for all..."  
Gandalf began telling them the story of the One Ring, talking the entire way to Rivendell.

"...and so, now we must journey to Mount Doom to destroy the ring and Sauron for good," Gandalf finished. "Understand?"

Killua nodded while smoke came out of Gon's ears. Killua whacked him over the head and scolded him for not listening closely. Gandalf smiled at the pairs antics. Hunter's or not, they were still children.

"Boys, come here," Gandalf called once he realised where they were. The Hunter's made their way over to Gandalf. Once they were there, the wizard pulled back a branch to reveal Rivendell. "Behold, the valley of Imladras."

Gon and Killua stared in astonishment at the sheer beauty of the place.

"It is known in common tongue as Rivendell, a great settlement of the Elves," Gandalf stated with a proud voice.

They boys immediately snapped out of their state of awe and gave Gandalf identical incredulous stares.

"Elves?!" they chorused.


	2. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preview: //“Gon, Killua, I would like you to meet the lord of Rivendell, Elrond. Behind him are the other members of the Fellowship; Pippin, Merry, Frodo, Sam, Legolas, Boromir and Aragorn. All of you, I would like you to meet Gon and Killua… the reinforcements.”//

As soon as they entered Rivendell Gon openly marvelled at everything he saw as he jumped around enthusiastically. Killua however, was a lot more discreet as he admired the beauty of the architecture. The surrounding ‘elves’, as Gandalf called them, looked on at the two boys curiously. They were probably wondering what a pair of children were doing in the company of the grey wizard. 

Gon and Killua were led through a various amount of hallways until they entered spacey room where they saw nine people conversing quietly as they sat around large circular table. It wasn’t long before Gandalf was greeted by an elf with long brown hair. 

“Ah Mithrandir. You have returned at last…” the elf said before turning to Gon and Killua. A look of concern crossed his face as he studied the two boys behind Gandalf. “Mithrandir? Why have you brought children of Men with you? Did they lose their way?” 

Gandalf chuckled almost nervously.

“No, no. They are not mere children,” the wizard replied calmly. He gestured Gon and Killua to move in front of him. 

Now that Gon and Killua were in clear view of everyone present, the Fellowship couldn’t help but examine the two teens. The boy clothed in green sported a bright smile as he waved excitedly to the Fellowship members. On the other hand, the boy with the white hair had placed his hands in his pockets, scanning everyone in the room with a thoroughly unimpressed look on his face.

“Gon, Killua, I would like you to meet the lord of Rivendell, Elrond. Behind him are the other members of the Fellowship; Pippin, Merry, Frodo, Sam, Legolas, Boromir and Aragorn. All of you, I would like you to meet Gon and Killua… the reinforcements.”

Along with everyone in the Fellowship, Elrond’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Confusion was quickly replaced by anger as the room immediately went into an uproar. 

Boromir and Gimli were loudly voicing their annoyance, and, while Aragorn and Legolas were not yelling like the other two, their disapproval at the wizard’s statement was shown clearly on their faces. Everyone else’s protests were drowned out as soon as Elrond opened his mouth. 

“Mithrandir! This quest is no place for these, these children! They will die within the first few days, or even hours! I dare not think what possessed Netero to send two mere boys! These children will be nothing but a liability to the company! Gandalf, my friend, I advise that you send these two home immediately so that they may return to their families and be safe from harm!” Elrond yelled indignantly. 

Killua’s eyes immediately turned to slits as he levelled a glare at the elf lord and the Fellowship which would instil fear in the heart of Sauron himself.  
“We mere boys are going to help you on this quest whether any of you like it or not,” Killua said slowly in a dangerously low voice. 

“Don’t underestimate us,” the ex-assassin spat out. “I promise you’ll regret it.” 

To say they were scared would have been the understatement of the century. Everyone’s eyes were trained on the white-haired boy as they regarded him with barely concealed trepidation. 

Though Gandalf admittedly felt his fear towards the boy grow, he was curious at the fearsome aurar which he was exuding. He didn’t need to be a wizard to see his killer intent was fiercer than that of any Nazgul. However, where could the boy have learnt that from? Surely not the Hunter Exam? The wizard had a niggling suspicion that it had something to do with the environment in which he was raised in, or perhaps, those who raised him. A shiver involuntarily ran down his spine. A terrifying thought indeed.

Unlike the rest, Gon didn’t express any feelings of fear towards his friend and simply sweat dropped in the background. He held his hands up and smiled nervously.

“Er, why don’t we calm down? Don’t mind Killua, he’s like this to everyone,” Gon said as he indiscreetly elbowed the Zoldyck hardly in the ribs, whispering, “Calm down Killua.”

With a defeated sigh, Killua receded his killer intent significantly, though his scowl stayed firmly in place. Despite this, the tension between both companies – namely Killua and the others present, side Gandalf - had stubbornly remained. 

“If you still doubt our skills I’ll be happy to fight with one of you?” Gon proposed unsurely as he scratched the back of his head.

Everyone’s attention turned to Gon. Elrond, who was still dazed, cleared his throat and nodded in agreement, obviously attempting to regain his composure. 

“I believe that would be for the best,” Elrond managed to say in all his regal glory. “However, that must wait until all of the preparations for your departure are completed."

Gon smiled brightly and enthusiastically nodded his head in agreement, immediately lifting the heavy atmosphere. Just then Gon’s belly grumbled really loudly, causing him to flush in embarrassment and the others to laugh silently.

“I don’t believe our friends have eaten lunch yet. Perhaps we should treat ourselves with lunch, hmm?” Gandalf asked humorously, patting Gon kindly on the shoulder. 

Neither Gon nor Killua had the chance to respond as one of the four hobbits, Pippin, gave a whoop of joy.

“Finally! I haven’t eaten in forever. Honesty, I could have died of starvation,” he exclaimed dramatically, rubbing his belly mournfully. 

“Pippin,” the hobbit next to him, Merry, started with a roll of his eyes, “you ate ten minutes ago. Hardly forever, if you ask me.”

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Aragorn had been confident that there weren’t many things in life which could surprise him anymore and even more confident in his abilities as a Ranger, though he had always been humble about it. Being raised and trained by the Elves of Rivendell since infancy had certainly helped this along. 

As an eighty-seven year old Ranger, Aragorn had experienced and fought in many wars, and was a well-travelled Man, having wondered all of Middle-Earth many times over and earning himself many titles along the way. Strider, Thorongil, and Wingfoot were but a few amongst the absolutely ridiculous amount of titles which he had acquired of the years.

This, of course, meant that the Ranger had many opportunities to interact with people from every corner of Middle-Earth, and so, naturally, Aragorn would be confident enough to accurately discern any Man, Dwarf or Elf’s homeland by simply gazing upon them.

However, despite all of his efforts, Aragorn, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out where on Middle-Earth the two strange boys were from. 

Aragorn would have thought that Young Killua, the boy whom he was still quite apprehensive about, was from the North due to his deathly pale skin. However, his facial features, which were more sharp and slim, didn’t quite match those native to the North, and he had never seen white hair on any child of Man. 

The only conclusion that the Ranger could reach was that the boy was half Elven. Though this certainly explained his more elf-like features, it most definitely didn’t explain the child’s killer intent. Just the memory of it sent chills running down Aragorn’s spine, though he would never admit it out loud. 

Well, Young Gon, on the other hand, was quite the enigma – even more so than Killua. At least the man an idea of where the white haired boy was from. He had absolutely no idea where this boy was from. 

Just about everything about him was foreign. The most obvious example of this would have been his green and spikey hair, which Aragorn couldn’t help but wonder at. The Ranger could live with the white hair, but green hair? Absolutely not.

Indeed the Ranger had thought of simply asking Gandalf where they were from, but, this idea was quickly discarded as the wizard would, more than likely, answer him with some long and confusing riddle. It was best for Aragorn to figure it out himself. 

However, even if Aragorn could discern where the boys came from – the possibilities of this slimming more and more -, there were still many, many unanswered questions. Like, how had they met? They clearly weren’t from the same village and yet they act as if they’ve known each other their whole lives. 

How on Middle-Earth were they to aid the Fellowship with the destruction of the Ring? Aragorn did indeed trust Gandalf’s words, however, the very prospect of having to fight alongside these poor boys, who had yet to reach the proper fighting age, was unnerving. 

Back to the point though, both boys were simply too puzzling.

Even as the white-haired child, Killua, inhaled his food, and the optimistic boy, Gon, roared in laughter at a joke Gimli had told, Aragorn couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in both concentration and frustration. 

The man shook his head grimly. He was seriously beginning to doubt his own skills. Gimli’s booming laughter disrupted Aragorn’s train of thought.

“So, after I won the drinking competition, just as agreed, Father had to frolic around in a dress, everywhere he went, for, for three months,” the Dwarf struggled to say between guffaws before breaking into another fit of laughter, holding onto the also-laughing Gon for support. 

Killua himself was sent into a cough-laughter fit after choking on his food.

Gandalf’s eyes twinkled with mirth as he too laughed at the Dwarfs tale. 

He was glad that the boys were getting along with some of the Fellowship - namely Gimli, Legolas and the Hobbits. 

Boromir still seemed incredibly unhappy about their two newest members and Aragorn was obviously currently having some sort of internal debate. 

Though the first few minutes of lunch consisted of glares from Killua and wary glances from the Fellowship, this seemed to go unnoticed by Gon as he had immediately launched questions at Gimli and Legolas, whom had reluctantly sat near him. 

Both the Dwarf and the Elf were pleasantly surprised that the young boy was interested in knowing more about their people and were also humoured by his innocent curiosity. 

Obviously Killua had eventually joined into the conversation and actually was surprisingly sociable. However, this was probably because everyone wasn’t being so hostile towards him. Of course he would shoot Elrond the occasional death glare, but other than that, he was reasonably well behaved as he and the Hobbits exchanged friendly banter. 

While the rest finished lunch, the wizard contemplated Gon’s suggestion for sparring. Though he himself was curious at the boys fighting skills, he thought it a pity that both boys were so, incredibly underestimated. 

If the punch that Gon gave Killua earlier was anything to go by, the teen’s physical strength was no laughing matter. And, Gandalf could tell by their aura that the teens were remarkably strong. It was just a shame that the others couldn’t realise it. On the other hand, if Gandalf himself didn’t sense Nen or see Gon’s surprising display of strength, then he would have also, undoubtedly, underestimated both Killua and Gon. 

Gandalf shook those thoughts from his head. It was a sad idea indeed.

After lunch had concluded, Elrond had to leave to attend some important matters – and probably sulk in his office over the two newest Fellowship members - while the Fellowship members headed off to their quarters, leaving Gandalf, Killua and Gon alone. 

The wizard sighed sorrowfully.

“I must apologise for their behaviours, Gon and Killua,” Gandalf said ashamedly. “You must think us so vulgar.”

“Don’t worry, Oji-san, they’ll like us eventually,” Gon said optimistically. 

‘Does anything get this boy down?’ Gandalf thought to himself.

“Your right of course, my boy,” the old man said, chuckling warmly before he bent down until he was eye-level with the two teens. The old man’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Now, I believe I promised you two a good display of magic.”

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Gon and Killua hadn’t known how long it would take these people to prepare to leave, but they certainly hadn’t expected to be this long! It had been six weeks since they had arrived in Rivendell. Six. Weeks.

Rumours spread around about the two boys. Originally, some had said that they were children of the man, Boromir, but, seeing as the man was nothing but cold to them, this idea was quickly discarded. 

Elves who had an unusually high capability of sensing energy had known that there was definitely something off about the Hunters and therefore suspected that the boys were either Mithrandir’s apprentices or his relatives. Many leaned towards the former. 

However, despite being curious about the children’s identities, the Elves of Rivendell were delighted to have them there, for it had been many a century since the joyous laughter of a child had been heard in their halls. Those who knew the Elves also know that they have a rather large fondness for children, no matter what race they may be from. 

Gon and Killua were not seen for the majority of the day, but when they were, the boys could be spotted exploring Rivendell, or wondering the corridors with either Gimli, Legolas or the Hobbits. 

Though Boromir had tried to seek out the Hunters and frighten them out of coming on the quest, he soon found out that one does not simply find a Hunter. They find you. And, unfortunately for Boromir, both Gon and Killua had no intention of associating with the sour man – well, Gon wanted to make friends with him, but he was swiftly dissuaded by Killua. Dissuaded was quite a loose way of describing it. Gon was more like wacked over the head and thoroughly berated by Killua about how bad his idea was. 

Aragorn, who currently was simply too busy dealing with life, didn’t bother looking for the boys. He figured that the answers to that questions that he had for the the enigmatic pair would eventually present itself.

Back to Gon and Killua, the two Hunters had made the most of their six weeks in Rivendell, choosing to train their Nen by maintaining their Ren for up to three hours. At first, they couldn’t even last a whole hour, but after a while, it became as easy as breathing. After this, they would go into an all-out duel against each other. Of course they did so away from prying eyes.

Presently, Gon and Killua were in their assigned quarters, simply chatting, when they heard a silent knock on their door. After a moment, the door slid open, revealing a shy Elf-maiden.

“Gandalf wishes to see you both in the Library, young Masters,” the she-Elf said softly. 

The faces of both boys brightened considerably.

“Really?! Great, come on Gon,” Killua said. 

The Elf lady scrambled out of the way as both boys bolted out of the door.

Gon quickly bowed several times to the Elf-maiden.

“Thank you, Elf-san,” Gon said before running after Killua.

Once they entered the Library, they found Gandalf sitting in a comfortable looking chair, puffing on his pipe-weed, much to the horror of Gon. The scent of the weed really did a number on his poor sensitive smell. Despite this, Gon greeted the old man just as cheerfully as normal.

“Good morning, Oji-san,” Gon stated brightly. 

“Hey, old man,” Killua said casually, waving a lazy hand.

Gandalf jumped slightly, surprised at their silent approach.

“You two must stop doing that. Honestly, all of these sneak attacks of yours can’t be good for this old man’s heart,” the wizard declared dramatically while clutching his chest. 

“Maybe it’s all that weed stuff that’s dulling your senses, old man,” Killua deadpanned. 

“Maybe, maybe,” Gandalf chuckled, inwardly glad that the past six weeks with the boys had allowed Killua to warm up to him. 

“So, Oji-san, was there something you needed?” Gon asked. 

“No, my boy, not something I needed, but something that you needed,” Gandalf replied, reaching into his robes and pulling out a piece of paper.

Killua grabbed the slip as Gandalf handed it to him. It was a letter. From Netero.

“It came early this morning and was addressed specifically to you two,” Gandalf said, tone much more serious. 

Killua opened the letter, allowing Gon to see it as well. Both boys scanned the letter, smiles appearing on their faces as they did.

Dear Gon & Killua,

Knowing the Elves, they are still making preparations for your company to leave, and so I thought I’d send you this message. Kite was located and secured a week ago by two of Morel’s student – Knuckle and Shoot. However, we believe that he is under enemy control. For your own benefit, I have asked Shoot to escort Kite to Middle-Earth to meet you at Rivendell’s borders. I’m afraid your meeting with Kite should be far away from prying eyes. Judging by the time this letter and Shoot was sent, him and Kite should already be waiting for you. I’m sorry for not mentioning this sooner, but Middle-Earth customs are very different from our own and they will not be quick to accept you as comrades-in-arms. They should come to acknowledge your strength in due time though. If you wish to ask about our situation here, simply ask Shoot. I won’t tell you whether you can share the contents of this letter to Gandalf or not. It is completely up to you. I will tell you this though. Gandalf is one of the greatest men if ever known and I assure you that you can trust him with your lives. Anyways, that’s all I have to say. Goodbye and good luck on your quest. 

Sincerely, Chairman Netero

The pair were silent for a moment, before Gon jumped up high, pumping both fists in the air.

“Yes! I knew Kite was alive!” 

Gon’s shout was heard all throughout Rivendell. In fact, anyone else who was in the Library at the time would have had the absolute crap-balls scared out of them.

Killua watched his best friend fondly. Good for him. However, whether Kite was still alive or not, this didn’t make Killua feel any less guilty about abandoning him. 

Gandalf, who hadn’t had anything explained to him, looked thoroughly confused.

“Sorry Oji-san. We promise to explain everything to you later,” Gon said excitedly as he rushed out of the Library, leaving a very bemused Gandalf behind.


	3. Unbridled Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preview: //Pure, scorching, rage danced wildly in those brown orbs of his, glowing with an unbridled need to kill and destroy. And just like an untameable fire, his anger would not extinguish until he had burnt every last enemy to ashes.//

Gon and Killua ran, full speed, to Rivendell’s borders, taking only fifteen minutes to get there. Once they arrived they spotted a man with purple hair up in a weird ponytail and clothed in a long purple robe. While his right sleeve stopped half-way, the other was draped over his entire left arm, completely concealing it from view. 

The man looked wary as he studied the two teens. 

“Hello,” Gon greeted kindly. “Are you Shoot?”

The man nodded his head reluctantly.

“Yes,” came his short response.

“Great! I’m Gon and this is Killua,” the energetic boy proclaimed loudly, gesturing to both Killua and himself.

With a huge smile, Gon gazed around in search for Kite… however, when he saw nothing but trees and grass his smile turned into a confused frown.

“Where’s Kite?” he asked, drawing a wince from Shoot.

Stepping to the side, the purple-haired man revealed a small cage which silently levitated behind him.

“Kite is in here… However, he is no longer the person you knew,” Shoot said.

Gon’s expression turned serious.

“That’s okay. We’ll find a way to cure him,” he stated firmly, brown eyes shining with conviction.

Slowly and hesitantly, Shoot placed the cage on the ground, before muttering the words, “Hotel Raffelsia.” 

“Once I’ve dealt enough damage to an opponent, I’m able to trap them,” the man started ominously with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “whether it be their entire body… or merely a single part of them.”

Both Killua and Gon watched in tense silence as the cage slowly opened, revealing a small Kite who wore nothing but his shoes and trousers... the same he had worn during the attack. 

The man limped pathetically out of the cage, his figure shrouded in a strange and eerie green aura. Long, grey locks covered his entire face and cascaded onto the forest floor as he hunched his thoroughly marred body. 

“If I release him from the cage, he’ll return to his original size… Be careful though. He cannot use Nen but he is still strong,” Shoot warned.

Green electricity crackled viciously around him as he grew larger and larger. 

Kite tilted his head back, muscles twitching involuntarily as if he was moving slow motion. His legs stayed in the position they were though – bent sidewards at unnatural angles.

Gon inhaled sharply as he scanned his friend/mentor’s face. 

The scarred man bared his teeth at the green-haired boy.

“Kite,” Gon called softly.

Said man didn’t respond and only stared at the teen intently, a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Most likely, they used him to train soldiers,” Shoot began quietly. “He automatically attacks anyone who approaches.”

Gon remained silent while Killua stared at Kite with sympathy. 

As the green-haired teen slowly approached, a guttural, almost beastly sound escaped the man’s lips.

“Kite… it’s okay,” Gon said, slowly outstretching his hands.

Without any hesitance, Kite planted a firm punch on Gon’s face, forcing him back a few metres. Not even bothered by the blood which trickled down the side of his head, the young Hunter cast Kite a sad look.

“It’s been a while,” Gon started, “since you punched me.”

Memories of his first time meeting the white-haired man flashed through his head.

Walking forwards again, he said, “That hurt a lot…”

Though Kite proceeded to hit Gon with a flurry of punches, the green haired Hunter had let his protective shell of Nen drop and made no attempt at dodging. 

Shoot stood by stiffly, unsure of what to do. Surely the white haired boy wouldn’t allow this to continue? They were friends, were they not? 

…

“I know what you’re thinking,” Killua said calmly, startling the older Hunter. “And no, I won’t interfere. Gon will notice… probably already has.”

Though Shoot made no visible signs of acknowledgment, inwardly, he was in a state of bemusement. Indeed, the man’s movement were robotic and predictable, but…the boy’s state of shock should make it impossible for him to anticipate any attacks!

“Kite isn’t this weak…” Gon whispered. “Kite’s punches-,” time seemed to slow down as the half-dead man threw a punch, “HURT MUCH MORE!”

With this loud statement Gon swiftly dodged underneath the sluggish left hook, before hugging Kite’s torso loosely. 

“I’m sorry, Kite. It’s our fault you’re like this…” the teen said quietly while the man snarled loudly in contrast. “Get some rest. We’ll help these people and then take care of the rest.”

Once Gon let his friend go and took a step back, a giant doll-like figure appeared above his body. Nen strings protruded out of its finger tips where they were firmly attached all along the man’s frame. 

Confused expressions fell on both boys faces as they closely studied the bizarre creature.

“What is that thing? Kite’s Nen ability looks nothing like that,” Killua questioned, throwing Shoot an accusatory glare which basically screamed ‘you’re dead if this is your doing’.

“That’s because it isn’t. A friend of mine, Knuckle, blocked Kite’s Nen, so that belongs to whoever’s controlling him,” the older Hunter quickly elaborated as the white-haired boy burnt holes into his very soul. 

Honestly, how a fourteen-year-old could possibly have a glare that scary was beyond the one-armed man. Directing a final glance of caution towards Killua, Shoot brought his attention back to Gon.

“Be careful… if you touch him again, he’ll attack,” the purple haired man warned.

“What do I do then? How did you stop him?” Gon questioned stiffly, stubbornly refusing to look away from Kite. 

“…Knuckle and I, we injured him… badly,” Shoot said reluctantly, causing the boy’s frown to deepen. “We had no choice, but I’m still sorry... If you stay away, he won’t attack you.”

Gon’s entire body, which had previously trembled with despair, now shook in anger. 

“Kite… Just wait a little longer,” he stated with clenched fists as he walked away. “I’ll get you back to normal soon.”

Killua visibly winced. He could hear the anger burning beneath his friend’s words, clear as day. The ex-assassin had heard this tone many, many times before… though never from his friend. This was a tone which promised not only unbearable pain… but also death. 

“Killua… I want that one myself!” Gon growled.

Pure, scorching, rage danced wildly in those brown orbs of his, glowing with an unbridled need to kill and destroy. And just like an untameable fire, his anger would not extinguish until he had burnt every last enemy to ashes.

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A Few Days Later

The training grounds was the perfect sparring place, comprising of large, open fields which allowed enough space for combat training of all kinds – whether it be archery, sword-fighting or hand-to-hand combat. 

For centuries, the Elves of Rivendell have trained and honed their skills, undergoing vigorous training in order to become the very best.

However, what all the Elves present had witnessed that day – that fateful day – had changed their opinion of the very best entirely. 

The Elves, which were previously training, couldn’t help but stop what they were doing in order to observe the small group which had just entered the training fields. 

Over with the Fellowship, Gon got ready to fight. 

“So, who am I going to spar with?” Gon asked cheerfully, stretching his legs out. 

“Me,” Boromir stated arrogantly, stepping up. 

“Great! I-,” the cheerful teen started but was interrupted by Boromir.

“But,” the man began, “if you lose or give me any indication that you will be a liability to the Fellowship, you and your friend will leave here immediately and return to whatever place you call home,” Boromir snarled.

“Now, now Boromir, it has already been decided-,” Gandalf started to scold the idiotic man of Gondor.

“No, Oji-san,” Gon cut the old man off, a determined expression crossing his face as he turned to address the Man of Gondor. “I agree to your terms, Boromir-san.”

Killua was going to argue with his best friend, but, after seeing that familiar look traverse across his face, he knew there was no point. After all, Gon was a master at being stubborn.

“I hope you know what you’re in for boy, I’ve experienced more battles than you can count… In fact, I wouldn’t blame you if you want to back down,” Boromir remarked confidently.

His over exaggerated use of the term boy made Killua scowl at the man. Honestly, ally or not, if the guy kept on carrying on like this, Killua would seriously consider just killing him. But, then again, Gon would get angry with him. The white-haired teen’s scowl turning into a look of contemplation. 

And on the other hand, he really did need a way to vent out his frustrations… A couple stabs to the face shouldn’t kill the pompous jerk. It’ll be quite the improvement, actually.

Not knowing that a sadistic smile had made its way across his face, the ex-assassins continued to plot ways to kill the Gondorian… without actually ‘killing’ him, of course. 

Caught in his own little, violent world, Killua had also failed to notice that everyone had now distanced themselves at least 10 metres away from him.

Ignoring his friends silent cackling, Gon kept his attention on the man in front of him and made no move to back down

This caused Boromir to huff childishly and cross his arms over his chest.

“Very well then, but don’t expect me to hold back just because you’re a child,” the man spat out, death glaring his opponent.

“Do you want to fight with weapons?” Gon asked, clearly unfazed by the Gondorian’s stare.

“No, I don’t need a weapon to defeat you,” Boromir sneered. “… but, if you can even manage to knock me down, I’ll stand still for a minute and let you punch me as many times as you want.”

Off to the side, Killua shook his head at the man’s stupidity – he had already devised exactly 429 ways to ‘kill’ Boromir, so he decided to direct his attention back to the fight. 

The young Zoldyck had a sneaking suspicion that the jerk had only made such a bold statement for the sake of showing off to the amassing crowd. Having gained quite a lot of attention, the two opponents were now surrounded by an assortment of unfamiliar Elves. 

However, this was mainly due to the presence of both Mithrandir and Lord Elrond. Not to mention the Prince of Mirkwood himself, known far and wide throughout the Elven community for his impeccable skills in the fine art of archery. 

Anyways, back to the point. First rule of fighting Gon? Never give him a free punch... ever. It’s probably the dumbest thing any man could possibly do. 

But… the jerk didn’t ask for just one punch, no, nooo, he just had to be special and offer Gon a chance to punch him several times. It was basically the equivalent of walking into a room full of psychopathic murderers and waving a huge sign above your head with the words ‘Please Kill Me’ written in big, bold letters, covered in sparkling, neon-freaking-pink glitter. What a brilliant idea. Truly, this Boromir guy – whom Killua has now dubbed ‘Jerk’ - was most certainly the absolute height of human intelligence. 

From the sidelines, Aragorn watched the Gondorian Captain with narrowed eyes. His child-like behaviour was certainly uncalled for and, honestly, quite unbecoming for a son of the Steward of Gonder. 

The Ranger himself was shocked at the boy’s unyielding attitude. Could he not comprehend the strength of who he was facing, or did he simply disregard Boromir due to naivety? 

Aragorn’s train of thought was interrupted as the crowd let out collective gasps. Drawing his attention back to Gon, Aragorn immediately noticed the absence of the foreign child’s strange green tunic. 

His eyebrows shot up as he saw Gon was now wearing an extremely tight singlet. This allowed the Ranger, along with the other onlookers, to see his thoroughly toned muscles which were clearly on display.

Boromir was, no doubt, the most surprised, thinking that the boy was simply skin and bone. But no. 

The child’s muscles weren’t necessarily huge, but the Captain of Gondor had trained enough soldiers to know that size didn’t matter. He also knew perfectly well what the build of a fighter looked like, having sparred shirtless many times against some of the most seasoned warriors in Gondor.

This child sported the figure only gained by someone who was constantly worked to the bone. It was as if he had been frequently forced to dig through mountains. 

This idea was, however, discarded without a second thought due to its absurdity (A/N: Yeah, that’s right Boromir. It’s not like a certain pink-loving, old hag made Gon and Killua literally carve their own path through, like, fifty mountains. Not. At. All. XD Just ignore me guys). 

Many questions ran through the man’s head. Questions which he just knew were going to be left unanswered for quite some time. 

Careful not to show any of his true thoughts, Boromir simply scoffed and gave Gon an unimpressed look. 

Only a few of those present caught the slight change in his demeanour. The man was actually on guard now. If the others didn’t know any better, they’d say the Man of Gondor actually considered the fact that Gon was a good fighter. But that was impossible… for now at least.

Acting as a referee of sorts, Elrond stood between the two fighters, arms behind his back in an act of regal professionalism.

“Alright, are you both ready,” the Elf lord started, earning nods from both sides. “Very well… Begin!”

Boromir rolled up the sleeves on his tunic and stood with his arms drawn towards his face and his feet spread apart, while Gon fell into his own loose stance.

“As I said before, if by some miracle you knock me down, I’ll let you hit me for a minute without any resistance on my side,” the Man said snobbishly. 

Displeased murmurs rippled through the crowd at this comment. Seeing no holes in Gon’s form, it was clear to many of the Elves present that the foreign boy could already match, if not surpass, a seasoned fighter, and so they silently chided the Man on allowing himself to be blinded by his arrogance. 

Running forwards, Boromir threw a right hook at Gon’s jaw which the Hunter easily dodged. Slightly aggravated at the boy’s surprising speed, the Man continued with an onslaught of attacks, only to find himself hitting nothing but air as Gon swiftly ducked under each swing. 

The cocky smile was now wiped clean off Boromir’s face as he decided to fight all out. Fully intent on breaking a rib or two, the man aimed a low kick at the Hunter. However, not expecting much resistance, the man was caught by surprise as Gon caught his leg and – without showing even the slightest hint of exertion – simply threw him twenty metres away.

Bystanders watched in awe as the young boy who had just flung a grown man - just about twice his size – became a blur of white and green, disappearing instantly. 

Still flying, Boromir hadn’t even had time to register that Gon had suddenly appeared above him before he was punched in the gut… hard. 

Of course, Gon had held back considerably, not quite wanting to kill the man, but Boromir didn’t know that. Said man crashed violently into the ground, causing him to be winded immediately. 

Everyone watched on with slack jaws – yes, this included Elrond, much to Killua’s amusement - as Boromir rolled on the ground in pain while clutching at his stomach. 

“Hey, Jerk,” Killua called out with a despicable smile. “Gon knocked you down, didn’t he? Now you’ll let him hit you freely for a minute, won’t you?”

Something akin to fear flashed through Boromir’s eyes as he remembered his statement. 

Not trusting his voice to remain strong, he simply nodded in response.

In contrast, the man knew, deep down, that if he let that happen, he’d most certainly die. Where this child got his incredible strength from was beyond him. However, his Gondorian pride wouldn’t and couldn’t let him back down from a fight. Not now, not ever.

“As promised, you have a minute of free hits. Do what you wish,” Boromir stated loudly, as if proclaiming his last words – because, let’s face it, he probably was.  
While the Gondorian silently prepared himself for pain, Gon’s expression remained neutral. This seemed to unnerve many of those watching. 

“Gon, show him your Jajanken,” Killua instructed firmly. “... Attack him like he was responsible for what happened to Kite.” 

Those present gazed at Killua - who was eyeing Boromir evilly - and Gon curiously, wondering what these foreign terms were. What was a Jajanken? Who was Kite?

However, unlike everyone else, Gandalf’s whole demeanour changed at the mentions of this ‘Kite’ fellow. His eyes had darkened considerably as he recalled the state the boys were in after their little... meeting. 

// Start of Flashback //

The Same Day of Gon, Killua and Kite’s Reunion

Gandalf sat peacefully in the library in the exact same place the boys had seen him last. Forgetting about his past bemusement, the old man puffed away happily on his pipe weed, simply enjoying what he knew was to be one of his last moments of peace before the journey to Morder. 

However, the air of peace and relaxation was completely smothered as he laid eyes on the two approaching boys, whom he had unknowingly come to think of as his grandchildren. 

Not missing Gon’s now thoroughly bruised and bloodied face, Gandalf was quick to rise from his seat and hurriedly check over the teen’s wounds.

“What in the name of Eru happened to you?!” the wizard exclaimed worriedly, placing both hands on Gon’s shoulders. “Are you okay? Were you ambushed? Was it Orc’s? What were-?”

Gandalf’s question was cut off as Gon placed a hand on the wizards.

“I’m fine, Oji-san,” Gon said, surprising the old man with his firm tone. “I think it’s time we tell you…”

“Tell me what?” Gandalf asked curiously.

Both boys exchanged looks before Killua answered.

“The reason we came to Middle Earth.”

After a second of contemplation, the old wizard nodded his head in agreement, acknowledging that the boys were – for once – being serious.

“If you wish,” Gandalf replied simply, a trace of wariness spreading across his features as he said this.

// End of Flashback //

Unknown to Gandalf at the time, the teen’s reasons for coming to Middle Earth were quite… disturbing. However, the word ‘disturbing’ was only used for the lack of a better word… Besides, what other word could possibly describe their predicament.

Giant, carnivorous, man-eating ants? A friend being captured and, possibly, killed by the enemy, only to be sewn back together and controlled like a literal puppet? 

Gandalf felt his own blood boil at the sight of the boys – his boys - in pain, even if their anguish wasn’t entirely physical. 

The Istari was many things, but unobservant, he was not. He could see the raw emotions practically burning in Gon and Killua’s eyes. While Killua normally hid his emotions exceptionally well, the old wizard saw guilt, regret and sorrow written all over his face, clear as day. 

Then there was Gon… Now, he was a completely different story. 

Bright, brown orbs shone with determination as well as another emotion which Gandalf had admittedly thought he’d never see from the boy… 

Hate… 

So, so much hate. 

The old man almost – almost - pitied the one who had done wrong by Gon’s friend. For the anger of a cruel man is nothing compared to the anger of a caring man. 

Back to the fight, Gon made no indication that he acknowledged Killua and instead slowly moved towards Boromir before stopping a few metres in front of him. 

Closing his eyes, Gon’s brows furrowed deeply as images of that night flashed through his mind.

The spectators watched the foreigner curiously, wondering what he was doing… that was before he finally opened his eyes. 

…

Death. 

His eyes… they looked like death itself.

Boromir found himself reeling back in fear as he suffered the brunt of the boy’s murderous look. And he thought the white-haired one’s glare was frightening! – though he’d never admit this out loud. 

Many of those in the crowd broke into a cold sweat as their eyes shifted nervously between the soon-to-be dead man and the furious child – if it even was a child. Perhaps he was a monster wearing a young boy’s skin? Honestly, they weren’t so sure anymore. 

Orange Nen burst forth from Gon’s hand as he clenched his right fist, leaving a certain wizard bug eyed and bemused. 

Elrond had not missed the way his old friend reacted. In fact, he had seen the same expression many times before when the old Istari was around Netero. 

Though the Elf Lord himself couldn’t see this ‘Nen’, he could most certainly sense its power. And just then, he had felt an immense eruption of power which seemed to radiate from the green-haired boys’ fist. 

Indeed, he was now thoroughly convinced that both young Gon and Killua would be more than enough aid for the Fellowship. 

Elrond and the other watched with bated breath as Gon held his fist as he pulled his arm back.

“First comes rock!” he yelled.

Storm-like winds – along with killer intent – began to thrash wildly around Gon, threatening to tear apart anyone and/or anything that dared to approach. Spider cracks appeared on the ground as he continued to build up his Ren (A/N: It is Ren, right?).

“Such power,” Elrond thought aloud, not even bothering to hide his astonishment.

Aragorn, who was also in awe of the boy’s mystical power, couldn’t help the feeling of concern that welled up in his chest. Not only concern for his fellow Man, but concern for the foreigner as well. 

Though Aragorn pondered where and how Gon had acquired such powers – they had to be Gandalf’s apprentices – the Ranger not only saw Gon’s anger, but his grief as well. And so, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to incite this amount of hate and anguish from such a joyful child.

While fear continued to envelope the poor Man of Gondor, a certain white-haired teen slowly approached his enraged friend, completely unfazed by the rampant winds. Seething in anger, Gon just barely registered the gentle hand which was placed on his shoulder. 

“Gon, that’s enough…” Killua said softly, before directing his attention to Boromir. “Right, Jerk?”

“I-I, w-what was…” Boromir stuttered out. “Yes…”

As the Man’s mind was still reeling from before, he hadn’t even realised that he’d just been insulted. 

After a moment, Gon’s mood did a complete 180 as he finally came to his senses. 

“Oh… K-Killua, thank you,” Gon said hurriedly, fumbling around as he turned to Boromir and bowed lowly. “Sorry about that, Boromir-san! I was really about to kill you.”

The blunt statement made many in the crowd wince, while the rest sweat dropped at the boy’s sheepish expression.

“No,” Boromir started. “It I who should apologise… I let my arrogance get the better of me. I shouldn’t have doubted you or Gandalf’s word. You truly are worthy adversary,” the Gondorian finished while giving a bow of his own.

Killua scoffed as Gon smiled widely and gave Boromir the peace sign.

With the match over, slowly but surely, all the observing Elves returned to their own training – muttering hurriedly in Elvish as they did so -, though not without tossing Gon questioning looks, as if he was a puzzle which refused to be solved. 

Now, only the Fellowship and Elrond were left standing.

…

Silence.

Nobody said or did anything. They only stared openly at Gon with dazed expressions, mouths slightly agape.

Elrond loudly cleared his throat to get the Fellowship’s attention.

“Now that Gon here has no doubt proved his worth, does anyone have any further quarrels with him and Killua joining the Fellowship?” the ancient Elf asked.

As he and Gandalf had been expecting, no one openly voiced their disapproval – if only because they now saw both boys as downright terrifying.

“Very well, let us head to lunch,” Elrond declared dramatically, deciding to lead the way to the Great Hall, closely followed by the Fellowship as he did so (A/N: I have absolutely no idea what it’s actually supposed to be called. Oops?). 

It didn’t take long before the Hobbit’s began showered Gon with an assortment of questions, all of which he answered with the word, “Training.” 

This, of course, left Killua both pleasantly surprised and proud at Gon’s evasive skills.

One thing led to another and Sam, Frodo and Gon somehow ended up having a thorough, in-depth conversation about herbs, while Pippin and Merry were pouting at being ignored.

Unlike Gon, Killua wasn’t quite up for small talk – he hated small talk – and so he chose to walk in the back with the boring people. These people being none other than Legolas and Aragorn, of course. 

After a moment of silence, Aragorn decided to take advantage of the situation and speak up. 

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Aragorn stated, trying to act as casual as possible, “that there’s something different about the two of you,” 

This was the first time the Ranger had actually addressed the strange, white-haired boy, but he needed answers. And, if Legolas’ side glances were anything to go off, Aragorn had doubt that the Mirkwood Elf had felt the same way. 

“Oh?” Killua questioned, not really caring what the man was trying to say.

It took every single ounce of his willpower to not say something along the lines of, ‘I wasn’t aware that it was ANY OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!’

“Indeed,” Legolas butted in. “If you don’t mind me asking, what have you two done these past six weeks?”

Killua’s expression immediately turned dark, making both Legolas and Aragorn recoil.

“It wasn’t what we did,” the ex-assassin said quietly as he stared at Gon’s back. “…it was what our enemies did.”

Giving neither Aragorn nor Legolas any time to respond, Killua disappeared instantly, only appearing as a blur for a split second, before seemingly popping into existence next to Gandalf. 

A beat of silence.

The Man and Elf exchanged bemused looks, and at that very moment, they shared the same thought.

‘Who are these children?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you liked (;


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